


A Losers Thanksgiving

by Brittle_Bone_Gabe



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Drug Use, Drugs, F/M, Family Fluff, Holidays, IT Chapter Two Fix-It, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Marijuana, Movie: IT Chapter Two (2019), Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21596182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brittle_Bone_Gabe/pseuds/Brittle_Bone_Gabe
Summary: Shortly after getting married, Ben and Beverly invite the Losers Club over for Thanksgiving.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	A Losers Thanksgiving

After the ordeal back in Derry, Maine it wasn’t a surprise that Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom ended up leaving together to go to Lincoln, Nebraska; just like Richie and Eddie left together to go to Chicago. The thoughts of Bev’s ex-husband faded when she moved into Ben’s house, every bad, abused memory that she ever had also faded. This was the first time in her life she was ever treated right by a man, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t use to flinch whenever Ben moved too quickly around her. Well, while Ben understood where she was coming from, he did everything he could to make her feel more comfortable and secure. It wasn’t long before she started feeling comfortable around him, acting like both best friends while still dating. The best kind of relationship. Of course, Ben had a feeling that if she had reason to, Bev would kick his ass. 

Richie and Eddie got married before Ben and Beverly did; only a week apart. It wasn’t planned, it just sort of happened, and they couldn’t help but laugh about that. _Of course_ something like that would happen to the Losers. Back to back Loser weddings were the best. Although, Richie always pointed out that his wedding was better for the fact he put small bags of weed underneath the Losers seats. Well… that’s what was _supposed_ to happen, but Eddie’s mother sat in a chair they weren’t expecting her to and instead of something normal under her seat she had a small bag of weed. _Whoops._ Richie didn’t hear the end of that for almost a year, now he and Eddie’s mom couldn’t make eye contact with each other. 

Ben and Beverly’s wedding was normal for the most part. It was certainly a beautiful one at that with all the Losers showing up. Beverly’s uncle, who she saw as a father, walked her down the aisle all while Ben was keeping everything he had to not cry. Ben remembered looking out to see Richie tease him by moving a finger down his cheek, implying that he was going to cry. Making sure nobody was looking, Ben threw him a discreet middle finger. Richie was about to retaliate, but both Eddie _and_ Stan punched him on either arm. 

At this point, the Losers had a lot of pictures of each other at weddings; beautiful, formal pictures, and _a lot_ of drunken pictures. With all the years apart they needed to catch up for lost time, this was the perfect way to do it too. Mike Hanlon had a lot of the formal pictures set up at his desk at work, but at home he had the stupid ones hung up on the wall. Richie wanted to hang up the pictures where Eddie was clearly drunk out of his mind, but Eddie refused, saying that he will burn the house down if he did that. Maybe Richie would risk it. Bill had a wedding photo taken of all the Losers set as his laptops background, always looking back on it whenever he was in a state of writers block.

* * *

Bev was moving around the house, putting up Thanksgiving decorations, being sure not to get in Ben’s way since he was on a video conference with a large group of people and didn’t want to get in the way of that. Thanksgiving was next week and she was excited, it was their first holiday being husband and wife and she wanted everything to be perfect. Plus, she always wanted to decorate a house with holiday decor; she wasn’t allowed to at her fathers house and when she moved to aunt and uncles they never really decorated either. Ben, on the other hand, welcomed it. They went out together, picking things out that would look good for the house. Ben remembered the huge smile on Bev’s face as she picked up decor items, holding it up to him, asking if he thought it would look good. Of course, he would always agree, a smile just as big on his own face. 

While she was decorating, holding the fake turkey in her hands while standing in the kitchen, Bev stopped, getting a fantastic idea. She absolutely could not wait for Ben to get off the conference call to ask him about it. Bev was thinking: _Hey, this would be mine and Ben’s first holiday, why not get the Losers in on it?_ Oh, hell yeah, that would be an amazing time. 

The moment Ben closed his laptop, letting out a sigh, moving into the kitchen where Beverly was still in, standing on the counter as she was putting little turkey stickers on the window. Ben came up behind her, putting his hands on her waist to make sure she wouldn’t fall backwards. Bev giggled as he helped her down. 

“It’s looking great!” Ben said, a smile on his face before planting a kiss on Beverly’s forehead. 

“This is my favorite!” She picked up the fake turkey plush that was sitting on the kitchen island. “Squeeze it!” She held it out to him. Ben took it from her, doing what he was instructed to do. _Gobble, gobble, gobble. “_ Isn’t it cute!” 

Ben couldn’t help but laugh, putting the plush on his wife’s head. “It’s so cute, just like you.” Bev stood on her toes, giving Ben a kiss as the plush toy slid off her head and to the floor. 

“Sooo… I had an idea for Thanksgiving,” she said, picking up the plush. 

“Hmm… more decorations?”

Bev laughed. “N- well, yes, but no. What if we invited the Losers for Thanksgiving?” 

Ben loved that idea. It was a few months ago since they seen their best friends for their wedding, but having them over for a holiday? That would be amazing. 

“That…” Ben wrapped his arms around Bev’s waist, pulling her in close, “is a fantastic idea. Do you think they’ll come?” 

“I hope so.”

* * *

Thankfully all of the Losers decided to drop whatever (if they had any) plans they originally had for Thanksgiving to travel to Lincoln, Nebraska to see Bev and Ben for the holidays. Yeah, Bill and Stan’s family wasn’t too thrilled about the idea that they wouldn’t be around for Thanksgiving, but they managed to get out of it by bringing up the fact it’s been a long time since the Losers were together and never around each other during the holidays. Yeah, Stan had to sleep on the couch for awhile, but he was still able to go. Bill had bought his plane ticket as soon as he got off the phone with Ben. Mike didn’t really have anything going on anyways, thankfully he didn’t work on Thanksgiving, in fact, he was originally was just going to order a pizza for the night and watch movies back to back until he fell asleep. So getting that phone call turned his entire mood around. 

Eddie got an earful from his mother when he called to tell him that he and Richie weren’t going to make it to the family Thanksgiving dinner they had every year. She was trying to guilt trip him into going, and Eddie almost gave in, but Richie held his fingers up to his own head, pretending to shoot himself, dramatically leaning to his side as if he were dead. While he was trying to be funny he accidentally slipped and fell off his chair, landing on the floor with a _thud_ as the chair slipped and fell on him.Eddie rolled his eyes, saying that they couldn’t make it. He kept apologizing, saying he loved her before hanging up the phone. 

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” he told Richie, who pulled himself up from the floor, his joints cracking as he did. “God, you’re old.” 

Richie laughed, flipping his husband off with both middle fingers. “Fuck you.” Eddie got back on his phone, looking for flights. “What’cha doin’?” 

“Booking before it’s too late,” Eddie said, his eyes focused on the screen. 

“Or… or, or…” Richie said, covering his phones screen, “we could drive there.”

“Drive…?” Eddie asked, looking up at Richie who nodded, a goofy smile on his face. “It’s only a two hour flight, driving would take, like…” he looked it up quickly, “seven and a half hours.” 

“Awww, c’mon, Eddie Spaghetti! Road trip!” 

“I can barely handle being in the house with you, do you think I could handle being stuck in a confined space with you?”

Richie put a hand on his chest, looking hurt. “Ouch… you hurt me.” 

“Good.” Richie blinked a few times, not sure what to say. “…Fine, but I’m driving.” 

“Oh… I’d rather walk. I’d get there faster.”

* * *

Thanksgiving finally rolled around, Beverly was overly excited as she was pacing back and forth, waiting for the Losers to show up. She had woken up early with Ben as they started working on Thanksgiving dinner, stressing herself out about it, but Ben had to reassure her that the Losers said they were going to be bringing stuff too so she didn’t have to do everything. God, Bev never hosted a dinner before, she didn’t know what she should or shouldn’t do, what would or wouldn’t be too much. She knew that the Losers couldn’t care less if the dinner wasn’t perfect, they would just enjoy the time together, but she was still panicking.

Ben came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, giving her a small massage.

“It’s perfect,” he told her, kissing her cheek, “they’ll just be happy to get some free food.” They both laughed as the door bell rang.

As they were making their way to open it, it changed to constant ringing of the door bell then someones hand pounding on the door.

“Let us in!” Ben and Bev heard Mike and Stan yell from the other side.

As soon as they opened the door they saw Richie shove handfuls of snow down Mike and Stan’s shirts. Bev covered her mouth to hide her smile as the two men screamed from the freezing cold. Richie was laughing so hard that he had no idea that Bill was coming up behind him with a handful of snow as well. He wrapped his arm around Richie’s throat, forcing the snow in his face before backing off, laughing.

“No! Why!” Richie shouted, spiting the snow out of his mouth, taking off his now blurry glasses. The moment Richie cleared off his glasses and put them back onto his face, he was met with a snow ball thrown by Eddie. “Oh, you are so fuckin’ dead, Tozier,” Richie said, picking up some snow, forming it into a snow ball.

Eddie panicked, not wanting to get hit with the dirty snow, so he ran behind Ben to use as a shield.

“Be nice to Eddie!” Bev said, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, man, why do you wanna hurt Eddie?” Mike added, still trembling from the cold.

“Wh-” Richie started.

“Such an asshole, dude,” Stan added.

“What is with this attack on me right now?”

“Gotta be nice to Eddie, man,” Bill said, purposely bumping into Richie’s shoulder as he walked past him.

Richie saw Eddie give him the middle finger as he was making his way into the house with everyone else. Oh, yeah. He was so fuckin’ dead.

Everyone took off their snow covered shoes so they wouldn’t track any snow into the beautiful house. Everyone set the bags that they brought on the dining room table. Everyone showed what they brought for dinner; Bill brought cornbread, Stan brought wine, Mike brought pumpkin pie, and Richie and Eddie brought… brownies. Well, actually Richie baked them himself… well… he baked _two different_ batches, making sure to leave… one… at home. Eddie had no idea what that was about, but whatever, it was something.

“It’s the only thing I know how to bake,” Richie said, slapping Mike’s hand away from the brownies.

“Since when do you bring brownies for Thanksgiving?” Ben wondered, trying to get under the lid of the brownies.

“Since… shut the fuck up or you don’t get any,” he replied, then slapped Ben’s hand away. “I guess if you don’t want them…”

Stan put a hand on Richie’s shoulder. “Thank you, Trashmouth.”

“At least _someone_ appreciates me.”

The Losers moved into the living room, taking the time to relax from their long trip as dinner was finishing up. Ben, Bev, and Stan gathered on the couch, Mike took the reclining chair on the left of the couch, Eddie took the other chair on the right with Richie sitting in between his legs so Eddie could stoke his hair, and Bill sat on the coffee table.

They were talking, catching up on what’s been going on since they last saw each other. Well, there wasn’t too much since they had a group chat called _Losers Club_ where they made sure they kept in contact. It was nice, but meeting up in person to speak face-to-face was even better.

“I saw your Netflix Special, Trashmouth,” Mike started, rocking back and forth slightly in the chair.

“Oh yeah? What’d you think?”

Mike breathed out a laugh. “You fuckin’ suck.”

Everyone playfully agreed, Eddie ruffling his husbands hair like he used to do to him when they were kids. He finally had the upper hand on him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re all fuckin’ critics. Thank you,” Richie said, waving a hand. “It’s probably better than Bill’s movies though.”

“Hmm… No… Bill’s stuff is better,” Stan said before taking a sip of his beer.

“Okay… cool, cool, cool,” Richie started, digging through his leather jacket pocket, some crinkling sounds came from it, “would someone who fuckin’ sucks have these?” He pulled out a baggie filled with rolled joints, holding it up for the Losers to see.

Eddie’s eyes went wide, smacking Richie on the side of the head lightly. “That’s why you didn’t want to fuckin’ fly!” 

“So smart, Eds,” Richie said with a smile, his head cranked back to look up at his husband. 

“Just like old times!” Bev said, fist bumping Richie who had opened the bag of joints. “Give it here, Trashmouth.” After taking a single joint out of the baggie for him, and _maybe_ Eddie, Richie passed it over to Bev who took one before passing it along. 

“Absolutely not,” Eddie said, sitting back in his seat when his husband held up the joint to him. 

“I didn’t light it yet.”

“ _No.”_ The Losers started ganging up at him, trying to encourage him to at least take one hit. 

“What about the time when you smoked that cigarette?” Bill asked him, waiting for Bev to pass the lighter. 

“The time you _what?!”_ Richie blurted out, not believing what he just heard. 

“ _Shut up, dude!”_ Eddie hissed at him. 

“You fuckin’ smoked a cigarette? When?!” Ben asked before putting the joint around his lips, taking a hit. 

“I remember that!” Mike blurted out, lighting up his joint. He took a quick hit, holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it escape. “It was you, me, Bev, and Bill.”

“I was tricked into doing it!” Eddie tried defending himself, but everyone groaned at his response. “I have asthma, I wouldn’t-”

“Oh, but you did,” Bev added after her hit. “I remember I had to help you put it in your mouth because it was the wrong goddamn way.” 

Mike started laughing. “Then he was too scared to light it.” 

“Well… looks like I have some new material for my next show…” Richie said as he took a long drag of the joint. 

“ _If you fucking put that in your show I will kill you, dude,”_ He said, flicking his ear lightly. 

“Just… try it!” Richie held it up to him. 

Eddie’s eyes went wide seeing a joint so close to his face, never in his life did he think that he would _actually_ consider smoking pot. Well, his doctor had given him a medical card for it due to his high anxiety, but he’s never used it once, hell, he didn’t even pick up the physical card. In fact, he never told Richie that, knowing that he’d pay him to buy him some weed. Well… shit. 

He took the joint from him, taking a quick glance around the room, the Losers were watching him, waiting for him to take his first hit. 

“If any of you tell _anyone_ I smoked cannabis-” 

“Call it weed or pot like everyone else,” Ben said, punching Eddie’s arm playfully. 

“…if any of you tell anyone I smoked pot I will fight you.” 

“Go! Go! Go! Go!” Richie chanted loudly, shaking Eddie’s legs, which spiked the shorter mans anxiety. “Up! Up! Up!” He reached up, grabbing Eddie’s wrist, guiding the joint in between his lips. 

Eddie was slightly resisting Richie pushing the joint at him. “ _Don’t you understand the health risks of smoking cannabis?!”_ He started, everyone was buckling up to try to understand his quick speech patterns that was about to come. “It can harm your lung tissues. Did you know your lungs can scar up? Because that’s exactly what’ll happen! All those blood vessels can get damaged and-” He was stopped when Richie managed to get the joint in between his lip. 

Eddie grabbed the joint in between his fingers, Richie let go of it, but kept his hand up by Eddie’s face, ready to grab the joint when he was done. He took a pretty long drag, longer than anyone had expected him to. 

“Whoa, easy, Eds,” Beverly warned. 

Everyone was telling Eddie that that was enough, that he needed to let it go. Richie took the joint from his husband, waiting for him let out the smoke, but he was holding it in his mouth. Mike, Bill, and Bev remembered a scene similar to this before; when they were fourteen he did the exact same thing when trying his first and only cigarette. Eddie started choking, letting all the smoke he was holding onto. His cheeks were heavily flushed as this point, tears were beading up in his eyes. 

The Losers laughed at him, Eddie held up his middle finger as he was trying to catch his breath, trying to stop coughing. 

“No more weed for you,” Ben said, reaching over to pat his back. 

“I-” Eddie paused, coughing up a lung, “agree,” he said coughing even more. 

“Proud of my boy!” Richie said with the joint in between his lips, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

The Losers sat around in silence. Nobody was saying anything, not on purpose, but because they were all so stoned that they had no idea what was going on right now. Eddie had his back pressed against the chair, slouching. Even though he had one hit, it was a large hit and he’s never been high before, unlike the others, so he was up on Cloud Nine. Richie was playing with his fingers, making sure he was still alive as he lit up another joint. 

“What?” Bill asked the empty air, thinking that somebody had said something. 

Everyone glanced at one another, trying to figure out who said what. 

“What?” Bev asked him. 

They all started laughing for no reason. 

This is exactly what they all missed being around each other in real life. Just sitting around, talking, maybe smoking some pot, just enjoying each others company. They needed to do this more often. Well, minus the weed part; save that for special occasions. 

Everyone jumped when the oven from the kitchen beeped, letting Ben and Bev know that the turkey they’ve been waiting on was finally ready. The two high hosts grabbed each others hands, leaning against each other for support as they went into the kitchen. They kept giggling, turning off the oven before doing anything else so they wouldn’t forget later. Having the house burn down on Thanksgiving was something they didn’t wanted to happen. Ben put on oven mitts, pulling the turkey out, carrying it to the table where the rest of the Losers were slowly migrating their way over. Richie and Stan each had to grab Eddie’s arms, pulling him to his feet. He had to lean against Richie, who had to practically drag him to the table, pulling out a chair for him to sit. 

Mike and Bill helped Bev and Ben bring the food out to the large table. Stan was staring at the table, not particularly at anything, not being able to focus on anything. He did smell food, however, that eventually snapped out of it. Everyone else took a seat, Ben at the head of the table with Bev to his left, holding hands. Everyone was passing around the wine that Stan had brought. 

Bev giggled. “I want to make a toast,” she announced, holding her wine glass up, “to the Losers Club. Nothing or nobody can break us apart!” 

Everyone cheered, clinging their wine glasses together, taking a sip before digging in to their Thanksgiving meal. 

Everyone was laughing, talking again. They were still high as kites, but now that food was in the equation they were no longer like zombies, now everything was lively again. Richie kept cracking horrible jokes that didn’t make sense to anyone but himself; nobody was sure if it was because Richie wasn’t forming proper sentences, or if it was because they were so fuckin’ high and just couldn’t understand. He pressed his forehead on the table, his fork pointed at the ceiling that was holding a piece of turkey, laughing at something he didn’t say but rather was thinking. The rest of the Losers were laughing at him, having no idea what was going on. 

“We… we gotta do this more often,” Ben said, mixing his mash potatoes and gravy together, “y’know, not just on holidays.” 

Everyone agreed with him on that. 

“Once a month,” Mike proposed before taking a sip of his wine. 

Everyone could agree to that.

“Once a week,” Bill then said.

Again, everyone agreed to that as well. There was a pause between everyone before they agree that… no. Not once a week. Once a month would work better. 

“Once a goddamn month. You’ll all get sick of us,” Richie said, wrapping his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, whose eyes were wide as he had no idea what was going on as Richie pulled him close. 

“No… they’ll get sick of you,” Eddie corrected him once he processed what his husband said. “I’m the _least_ annoying one here.”

“Bullshit!” Ben said to Eddie. “We have to listen to you _talklikethisaboutmedicalthings,”_ he mocked, speaking as fast as he possible could. 

“Fuck off, bro.”

After sitting around eating for an hour, the majority of the food was practically gone, the pies were gone there was only one thing left. Richie’s brownies. At first everyone had insisted that they were too full to eat anymore, but Richie convinced them. They all sat around in the living room, back in their spots eating the brownies in silence. 

“Um… Rich?” Stan said out loud, inspecting the brownie he bit into. 

“Yeah?” 

“…is… are… are these pot brownies?” 

The Losers looked over at Richie, who was sitting on the floor in between Eddie’s legs.He stopped mid chew, looking at the brownie. They looked like normal brownies… the room smelt like pot for sure, but… He sniffed it, his eyes going wide when he realized his mistake. 

_He got the pot brownie batch he made mixed up with the normal brownie batch._

_“_ Oh, fuck…” he said, looking up. “Um… _my bad?”_ He said quietly with a shrug. 

That didn’t make a difference to the Losers, in fact, they started laughing at his mistake. They finished up the brownies, just because they might as well, right? 

Yeah. That was a fuckin’ mistake. 

Mike was the one who passed out first in the reclining chair, his head drooped back as he let out soft snores. Bill followed suit, laying down on the coffee table just to ‘rest his eyes,’ but ended up falling asleep the moment he shut his eyes. Ben and Bev fell asleep on the couch, Ben slouching on the couch with Bev in his arms, Stan had his legs draped across their laps, using the arm rest as a pillow. Eddie was whining about wanting to be held, so he and Richie switched spots on the chair that Eddie had been hogging; Eddie curled up on Richie’s lap, his head pressed against his chest, the sound of his heart beating put him to sleep. Richie was out the moment he wrapped his arms around his Eddie Spaghetti. 

They were all so fuckin’ high that they slept through the entire rest of the day through the night without as much as a sound. Nobody woke up, not even to get water or go to the bathroom. This was the best sleep that the seven of them had in years, who knew how great pot could be for sleep. It felt like old times when the Losers would spend the night at each others houses, staying up all night just enjoying each other until they all passed out. 

This was the best Thanksgiving any of the Losers ever fuckin’ had. 


End file.
